


The Marauders Make a Map

by byebyebluejay



Series: Mischief Managed: Marauding Stories [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts, Humor, Light Pining, M/M, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Podfic & Podficced Works, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, general silliness, light language and boyish attitude, magical innovation, marauders being clever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 15:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byebyebluejay/pseuds/byebyebluejay
Summary: The story of the catalyst for the Marauder's Map: sure, James wanted to leave a legacy. But really? Sirius mostly just wanted to buy chocolate for Remus between Hogsmeade visits.





	The Marauders Make a Map

**Author's Note:**

> I podficced this work here, if you wanted to listen:
> 
> [ The Star and Moon: Wolfstar Podcast - The Star and Moon: The Marauders Make a Map ](http://shoutengine.com/TheStarandMoonWolfstarPodcast/the-star-and-moon-the-marauders-make-a-map-42235)

“Do you ever think about the future?” Sirius was lying spread-eagled in the sloping yard, face turned up to the sun. Peter was plucking blades of grass, trying to form them into a braid. James was still working through his potions essay. Remus had given up for the moment, and was reclined beside Sirius, studying the cloudless sky.

“You mean, after graduation?” Remus asked, glancing over at Sirius, who was chewing his lower lip. 

“Yeah. Or you know. Past that. What we’re going to leave behind once we’re gone.” 

Peter’s laugher couldn’t quite disguise the nervous edge in his voice, “Why are you talking like that, Sirius? We’re less than halfway through school. You don’t have to worry about what will happen after we’re… dead or whatever.”

“I’m sure you’ll leave your mark, Sirius,” Remus said, “Just decide what you want to do with yourself, and apply yourself, and you’ll do amazing things. You’re clever and you’ve got a… good heart. People will remember you.” Sirius laughed, but James had dropped his quill and had a fresh light in his eyes. A black blotch of ink was spreading across the half a foot of blank parchment at the bottom of his essay. 

“No, no, Sirius is right. We need to start worrying about our legacy.” 

“Our _legacy_?” Remus’s sarcasm was lost on James. 

“Our legacy. We need people to remember us for the brilliant troublemakers and agitators—“

“Speak for yourself,” Remus said at the same time as Sirius said, “I prefer ‘scallywags’.”

“—that we are. We need to be remembered. We need to ensure that Hogwarts doesn’t go back to being the stodgy old—“

“Stodgy?” Peter squeaked, and was ignored.

“—bore of a place that it used to be. And you are a troublemaker too, Rem. You just manage to get fewer detentions. Aiming for prefect or something?” 

Remus laughed, “Hm. I can think of one or two things at least that might prevent them from considering me.” James reached over to swat Remus’s shoulder.

“Don’t think that way.”

Sirius smiled, the back of his hand nudging Remus’s. “Maybe Remmy can’t help avoiding detention because, once he gives the teachers a blast of his smile and makes puppy eyes at them, they feel awful giving it to him.” 

Remus laughed, “I thought that’s what you do, Sirius.”

“But I don’t have those cute blond curls.” He reached out to tug one of Remus’s locks of hair. 

“I don’t have your—what do you call them?—glittering gray eyes?”

“Eyes that glimmer like stars reflected in a still, deep pool of water,” Sirius intoned. 

“Yes, those,” Remus said.

“Stop flirting you two. I’m being serious,” James said. Peter and Remus laughed as Sirius jolted upright, both knowing what Sirius was about to say. 

“You’re Sirius? I thought I was Sirius!” Peter and Remus were in gales of laughter as James bowled into Sirius, and the two tumbled to the ground in a tangle of robes and limbs. James’s inkwell was kicked over. His essay drifted away a few inches before Peter caught it. It was difficult for Remus to make out the details of the fight, but fifteen seconds later, James had Sirius pinned, a knee pressed into Sirius’s stomach.

“I surrender! I surrender!” Sirius said, eyes wet with laughter, but James didn’t relent.

“No more name puns for the rest of the week.” 

Sirius’s mouth fell open. “What? Never!” 

“Maybe we should just start a jar for bad wordplay. A sickle per offense. Every few months we can use the proceeds for things from Zonko’s or Honeydukes,” Remus said, watching a smile spread across Sirius’s face.

“I could agree to that—donating to our mutual cause.” 

James nodded, “Just something to cut him down a little.”

“I’d never say no to more pocket money,” Peter said, and James released Sirius, giving him a thump on the back as Sirius rolled onto his belly.”

“Not this time, though,” James said, “I think I’ve gotten Siri back for that one well enough.” 

“Yeah, you have,” Sirius said, massaging his ribs, “Speaking of. When is the next Hogsmeade weekend? Filch confiscated my stash of Screaming Yo-Yos before the Great Staircase Prank I had planned. And Peeves and I were just starting to build a rapport. I think he was beginning to see me as a likeminded being of chaos.” Remus snorted at that as Peter counted on his fingers. James was clumsily siphoning up the ink he had spilled with a not-yet-mastered cleaning spell.

“Weekend after the weekend after next,” Peter said at last, and Sirius groaned.

“No. That’s ages. I wanted to go to Honeydukes too.” 

“I’ve got a few bars of chocolate left. We could share,” Peter said. 

“So do I. You could have some of mine if you like,” Remus said. But Sirius’s eyes flicked from Peter to Remus, and his mouth tugged to the side. What a funny look. And then, Remus’s stomach did a slow-motion cartwheel. The last time he had been in the hospital wing after a full moon, Sirius had snuck in during breakfast with a box full of fat chocolate-covered marshmallows from Honeydukes. Was the reason Sirius had a deadline on going to Honeydukes and a lack of desire to share sweets because he had been planning a repeat of the visit? It couldn’t be, could it? And still, his stomach flipped again.

“I’ll just wait,” Sirius said, slumping down to press his face into the grass.

“There’s got to be a way into Hogsmeade,” James said, shoving his ink-splotched essay and his empty ink bottle into his bag, “It’s right there. There must be a secret passage.”

“Of course there’s one, dung brain,” Sirius said, the words muffled by his hands and the grass, “Under the Whomping Willow, into the Shrieking Shack. But Rem says you have to crawl for a mile or something to get out the other side.”

“Maybe we could shrink ourselves!” Peter suggested, eyes going round, “Then we wouldn’t have to crawl.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Peter,” Sirius snorted, “Walking what feels like three miles would still take an hour either way. And then you’re in the Shrieking Shack. It’s all boarded up for the security of Remus’s furry little problem.”

“For the security of the rest of the town, you mean,” Remus said with a wry smile. Sirius shrugged.

“We could always unboard the doors and just do them back up again later,” James said, “Beats waiting around for Hogsmeade weekends every time we want a drink or something for a prank. We deserve to move around our own hunting grounds freely.” Sirius straightened himself up and made a vague sound of agreement, but Remus’s heart jolted with a visceral fear. He could just imagine them, giddy with laughter and the thrill of rule breaking forgetting to board the door back up again. It wasn’t worth it for a bar of chocolate or a Fanged Frisbee.

“Absolutely not.”

“What?” James turned to look at Remus, brow furrowed. 

“I can’t let you do that. Too much risk. And getting into Hogsmeade isn’t even important.”

“The danger is what makes it fun, Rem!”

“No, James. We can find another way.” 

“We could fly,” James suggested. 

“Too obvious,” Sirius said. 

James groaned and stretched out his legs. “Well. There must be another passage off the grounds. The castle is full of secret passages.”

“Like the one that goes from the potions classroom to the back of the kitchens,” Sirius said.

“Or the one between the library and that portrait of Rebecca the Ravenous at the bottom of Ravenclaw tower,” Peter said.

“The Founders saw fit to put a secret stairway between a second floor broom cupboard and a fourth floor broom cupboard,” Remus pointed out, “You’re right. The Whomping willow passageway can’t be the only one leading from the grounds to Hogsmeade. It just can’t be.” 

“So we should just… keep our eyes peeled. Or…?” Sirius trailed off, looking between the other three.

James scoffed, “Must be something better than that.”

“Search the castle ourselves?” Peter suggested, but James shook his head again. 

“Too big. Too tedious. Too easy to miss things.”

“Most of the passages can’t be secret to everyone,” Remus pointed out, “We’ve only been here a few years and between us we already know about a dozen.”

“Just no useful ones,” Peter said, a small, sad smile twisting his mouth.

“Useful ones!” Sirius countered. 

“Just not useful for going to Hogsmeade,” Remus said, ruffling his curly hair. They sat in silence for a while, thinking. It was Sirius who finally broke the quiet. 

“Shame we can’t just ask Filch. Caretakers must have some sort of record or map that they pass down generation to generation.”

“Anyone up to really mastering a memory charm and brewing up some Veritaserum?” James asked with a grin that showed all of his teeth.

“You could break into his office and have a poke around,” Remus suggested, “That would be much easier.” 

Sirius crowed, gray eyes going bright with delight. “Look at Rem! Open burglary. I like it.”

“Au contraire, my dear Sirius,” Remus said, warming as Sirius grinned wider still at the casual use of French, “Just a break-in. If we steal the map, Filch will come looking for a culprit. We could—“

“Just double the map or whatever he has,” James said, “Piece of cake.” 

“I bet the house-elves would know some too,” Sirius mused, “Maybe ones even the caretakers don’t know. Doing most of the dirty work, you know. Living their whole lives in the castle. Magically connected to it.” 

“Oh! I can do that!” Peter said, looking brightly between Sirius and James, “They’re friendly with me anyway, since I’m always down in the kitchens.”

“’Could I get you a pumpkin juice, sir?’” Sirius simpered, “’A bit of jelly roll? Perhaps a nice, wet kiss on the arse?’” 

James laughed, “Is that your imitation of a house-elf?”

“No,” Sirius said with his razor-edged grin, “That’s my impression of Pete sucking up to you.” Remus had to try hard not to laugh as loudly as he wanted to. Sirius looked at him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Peter pinked at the ears and muttered something about ‘trying to be nice’ but James snorted and pressed on. 

“So. Sirius and I can sneak down to Filch’s office under the invisibility cloak and have a look around. Peter, you and Remus can try to convince the house-elves to cough up something useful.” 

Their efforts brought only mixed success. A search of Filch’s office revealed mostly piles of confiscated items, which James and Sirius liberated from their once-locked drawers, and a bulging file of complaints against various students (James and Sirius the most frequents subjects) and Peeves. The tatty map of Hogwarts they found folded in Filch’s desk and copied was initially promising. The map did show several penciled-in secret passages to Hogsmeade—four, including the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. But before the excitement had truly set in, James realized the passages were too narrow to avoid detection if Filch ventured down one. The invisibility cloak wouldn’t be any use if they were knocked into. Peter and Remus’s prodding in the kitchens was less fruitful still. The house-elves were more than happy to weigh them down with tea and cakes and sandwiches, but when it came to divulging castle secrets, they were more tight-lipped. 

“What if we were really hungry, and you were too busy to bother cooking something extra for us before a feast?” Remus asked over a bowl of creamy carrot and ginger soup as Peter wiped down his bowl with a bit of bread. 

“We would never be too busy to give you something, sir,” One of the house-elves said with a little bow, “You do not need to worry about that.”

“What if we were here during the summer, and you were all… somewhere else?” Peter tried, and got a blank look.

“We live in the castle, sir. We is not leaving during the summer holiday.”

“This soup is delicious,” Remus said, to ease the edge of disturbance in the house elf’s manner, setting him smiling again, “Err… I’m often confined to bed. I’m rather sickly. What if I wanted food, but didn’t want to climb down so many stairs. Is there anything--?” But the house-elf was shaking his head.

“Sirs could try the Come and Go Room in the seventh floor corridor. That is not very far from Gryffindor Tower. If you is really needing it, it will be there, with healthful food and places to rest,” Said another elf as she breezed past, levitating Peter’s empty bowl and plate and whisking them off to be cleaned.

“There is no need to go to Hogsmeade for food. It is much farther than the kitchens,” The other house-elf agreed, and, as that was the worst mood Remus had ever seen a house-elf in, he decided it was time to leave.

“The Cum and Go room?” Sirius said over dinner a few hours later, dabbing a dribble of pumpkin juice from under his nose. Across from him, James—who had been directly in the line of fire—was attempting another cleaning charm. Peter was in fits of giggles beside James, having avoided all of the spray, and Remus, next to Sirius, was finding himself a fresh plate. 

“I think they meant C-O-M-E, Sirius,” Remus said, mouth twisted up at the corners despite his best intentions, “Because it’s not always there. It comes and goes.” 

“Works both ways, I think,” Sirius said, coughing before swigging down a fresh mouthful of pumpkin juice. 

“And it just has food in it?” James asked, having succeeded in getting most of the juice off of his robes, “If you’re hungry?” 

“The way she said it, she made it sound as though the room would provide what I needed. She mentioned beds or something. Didn’t she, Peter?”

“Yeah, places to rest. Healthy food. Remus told her he was sick a lot and had trouble getting downstairs.”

“Beds?” Sirius said, arching his eyebrows, “See? Works both ways.”

“Shut up,” James snorted, “We’re trying to do something, remember? Hogsmeade.”

Sirius was leaning into Remus’s side, close and warm, and somehow still composed despite having sprayed all of the food between himself and James with pumpkin juice and winning the attention of half the table. “He’ll change his tune when the thing he wants to do is Evans,” Sirius whispered, and Remus laughed. 

“Oi, I heard that,” James said, chucking a roll at Sirius’s head. It hit him squarely on the forehead and bounced off into a tureen of gravy. 

“Would you two stop contaminating all the food?” Lily said from three places away, giving James a sharply annoyed look. Her expression for Sirius was only slightly softer. James grimaced, and Sirius sighed. 

“I’ll have to apologize later,” Sirius said, smoothing back his hair.

“You could apologize now,” Peter pointed out, glancing at Lily, though she had returned to talking with Agatha Stewart and Marlene McKinnon.

“Nah, she’s busy. I’ll see her later.”

James gave him a sharp look, “You will?”

“Yeah. Marlene and Lily and Mary and Aggie and I were going to have a girl’s night in tonight.”

“But you’re not a girl,” James said, mouth open. 

“So?”

“So? So… I mean. Why are _you_ invited?”

Sirius shrugged, “I’m friends with Marlene. I asked if she wanted to play me in wizard’s chess before astronomy tonight, she said she and Agatha and Lily and Mary were having a girl’s night before class. I asked if I could join in to get a break from you three tossers—no offense meant, Rem. You’re more of a tosser-by-association.”

“Look who’s talking,” Remus managed around a mouthful of steak and kidney pie. 

Sirius grinned and charged on ahead, “She said they were just going to be doing each other’s hair and nails and stuff, but as long as I promised not to flirt or make a nuisance of myself I could come, and I thought…” He shrugged again. 

“What are you going to do when they’re doing each other’s hair and fingernails?” James asked.

“What do you think I’m going to be doing, you prat?”

“Talking?”

“Well, yeah, I expect that’s part of it too. It would be weird if they sat around in silence just painting and braiding.” 

When they went to astronomy that night, Sirius’s hair was in a loose fishtail braid, his fingernails were navy, decorated with the phases of the moon in white, and he was wearing eyeliner that made it very hard for Remus to look him in the face. Peter was awestruck. James managed to be at once bemused and seethingly jealous, both at the attention Sirius had obviously received in order to end up looking like that, and of the attention he was getting now. Remus didn’t seem to be the only one having trouble making eye contact with Sirius without blushing. 

“How’d you get up the stairs anyway, Siri?” He asked as they took turns trying to spot Ganymede. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sirius said. Marlene leaned over to give him a high-five, and Sirius beamed, while Remus tried to tamp down on something cold and sickly that had risen in his stomach that he knew he had no right to feel. 

Homework, quidditch, explorations of the Room of Requirement (since calling it the ‘Come and Go Room’ still evoked snorts of laughter from Sirius) and the usual burden of mischief-making left little time to suss out a way off the grounds or to consider their legacy for a while, so it was a full week before the topic was broached again. They were all nearly ready for bed. Sirius was perched on the foot of James’s bed beside James himself, picking off his chipped nail polish, while Peter buffed his collection of gobstones and Remus corrected the spelling of goblin names in Peter’s history of magic essay. 

“Filch’s map isn’t good enough,” James said, apropos of nothing, and Remus set his quill back in his ink bottle, watching him. There was a look of intense concentration on his face. “If the house-elves know, they’re not telling. But someone must know. If we gave the right person the right motivation, we could just… follow them and know. Can’t be worth more than twenty galleons to someone. We wouldn’t tell.” 

“If we just offer a twenty galleon prize to whoever can show us a secret way to Hogsmeade, it won’t stay secret for long,” Remus said, “Filch will catch wind.”

“Or Snivellus will tell,” James said bitterly, “Damn.”

“If you could find a more subtle way to go about it…” Remus suggested, and Sirius perked his head up. 

“What’s the least popular item in Zonko’s, do you think?” He asked, a light growing in his eyes. 

“I dunno,” James said, “No one falls for spontaneously combusting quills anymore, do they?”

“Speak for yourself,” Peter said, and James laughed. 

“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that, sorry Peter. They’re still going around, I guess.” 

“I think you’re the only one who buys Screaming Yo-Yos, Sirius. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else with one,” Remus said. 

“Yeah, well, that’s Filch’s work, though,” Sirius said darkly, “They would be more popular if they weren’t always confiscated. And it won’t work with a banned item anyway.”

“What about Unburstable Bubbles?” Peter suggested, “There’s no point to them now, with Drooble’s.” 

“Very good point, Peter. Everyone just buys Drooble’s,” Sirius said, leaping up from the bed and starting to pace around the dormitory, “What if… what if we offer five galleons to the first ten people who can get us one brand new, sealed bottle of Unburstable Bubbles by this weekend? We can just screech it out in the great hall. They’re only sold at Zonko’s, I think. And I can’t think of anyone whose parents live at Hogsmeade. Even if there are a few who can get it through the post somehow, if we see them get it from an owl, we can just tell them thanks, but we already got ten. For the rest, we can ask them to get us another, and then—“

“Humonculous Charm on Filch’s map!” James burst out, rising from the bed to grab Sirius’s shoulders, expression feverish.

“What’s that?” Remus asked, nonplussed. Sirius and Peter too looked perplexed. 

“Tracking charm,” James explained, “Cast it on a map, and it shows everyone inside it for as long as the charm lasts. Won’t work perfectly, because Filch’s map isn’t accurate, but we can watch our targets and see where they disappear off the map into whatever other secret passages there are into Hogsmeade, and work things out from there. Hopefully at least one or two of them will use ones we don’t know about.”

“James. Jamie. Jam. Ma moitié,” Sirius threw his arms around James’s shoulders and hugged him tight, “You are almost half as brilliant as Peter thinks you are. This will—could you? What?” James was pounding him hard in the shoulder, eyes focused on some distant point in space.

“This is it.”

“What is?” Peter and Remus asked as one. 

“This can be our legacy. At least, part of it. A map. An accurate map. We can plot a new map on the bones of Filch’s tatty bit of flobberworm skin. Every secret passage. Every hidden room. Track teachers, caretakers, Peeves, prefects, other students on it. Use it while we’re here, and leave it in reliably unreliable hands once we’re gone.” Sirius staggered away from James, and Remus reached out as Sirius feigned a swoon, falling back with careful grace into Remus, clutching at his heart. James and Peter laughed, and Remus grinned down at Sirius, who was fluttering his eyelashes as though he had been dazed. When he caught Remus watching, he smiled and winked before pushing himself up. Remus missed the contact as soon as Sirius was at his side instead of in his lap.

“I think you solved it in one, James,” Sirius said, “Our Hogsmeade problem and our legacy problem.”

“How long will it take you to learn that spell?” Peter asked James: the natural choice, really, Remus thought. Out of all of them, James was the best at practical charm-work. 

“Oh. No time. A couple days at most.”

“Wow! Really?”

Remus raised his eyebrows, “Learn it well, he means, James. A good version. A permanent, accurate, legacy-worthy version. For a map that we’re going to have to create by hand.”

“Well…” Rare uncertainty showed in James’s eyes, “We might want to do some research, I guess.”

“No! Not the library!” Sirius groaned, grabbing Remus’s pillow and pressing it over his face, “Not _research_. The library is always useless. We can never find anything in there.” 

“Tenth time’s the charm,” Remus said, stretching out beside Sirius, who only groaned in response. “I’ll finish checking your essay tomorrow morning, alright Pete?” He said, nodding to the essay on his bedside table, “I’m tired, and someone has to revive Sirius if any of us are going to sleep restfully tonight.” 

James laughed as he flopped into his bed, letting the curtains drop closed around him, “Good luck, Rem.” 

Peter took another minute to shuffle away his gobstones before crawling into his own four poster, “Good night!” Sirius groaned again, more loudly. 

Remus lay still as quiet fell over the dormitory. Beside him Sirius seemed unnaturally motionless, as though he were waiting too, listening for snores and steady breathing. The rise and fall of his chest was the only movement he made. What felt like ages later, the sound of Peter’s snores began emanating from his bed, which meant that James—notoriously fast at nodding off—was almost certainly asleep too. Remus tapped Sirius’s wrist, and at once, Sirius pulled the pillow away from his face. A few strands of hair clung to the dampness of his brow, but his smile was bright in the darkness. 

“Not upset about research anymore?” Remus whispered, and at once the smile disappeared.

“Why did you remind me? I had forgotten.”

“How could you forget? There was nothing else to think about.”

“I was thinking about Honeydukes, and chess, and transfiguration and… your pillow smells really nice. Is it your shampoo?” Sirius leaned in closer to sniff at Remus’s hair. Remus stifled a laugh and gave him a half-hearted shove. Sirius pouted, rolling onto his back. 

“I’m jealous. I don’t have your cute little curls and my hair isn’t the best-smelling. Second-best smelling hair is a terrible title.” 

“You have very nice hair. I think that, put to a popular vote, most people would say you have the best looking hair out of the four of us.” Sirius chuckled, and then for a long moment, there was silence again, broken only by Sirius shifting up towards the head of the bed, “Do you mind if I…?” 

Remus’s mouth had gone dry. “No, I don’t mind,” He said, and Sirius slid under the covers, patting the mattress beside himself. Remus moved to join him, trying to force his muscles to relax. This wasn’t so unusual, was it? Nothing to feel strange about. If Sirius noticed his tenseness, he didn’t say anything. Remus was almost certain he had fallen asleep until, minutes later, Sirius spoke again.

“Doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to bring you chocolates next time, Rem. I’m sorry. “ 

“Is that why you—when we started talking about secret passages to Hogsmeade…?”

“I can’t borrow chocolate from you or Peter, then give it to you like it’s a present,” Sirius said, chuckling, “Did that make you happy, when I visited that first time? I thought it did. So I thought, why not do it again?” That was tenderness Remus had not expected from Sirius, and he looked over at him, but Sirius’s face was turned away, towards James’s bed, so Remus satisfied himself with giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Of course it made me happy. It’s usually really lonely in the hospital wing. And it’s… it’s never a good time, for me. The chocolates helped cheer me up. You helped.”

“Well. Good. I hate it when you’re unhappy… You know, on top of having the best-smelling hair, you have the most comfortable bed, too.”

“Oh?” Remus found that difficult to believe, but when Sirius turned his face towards his again, his eyes were closed, and he did look entirely happy.

“I may have to spend more time here. If you don’t mind. Chatting, if you’re not sleepy. I think I’m usually the last to fall asleep.”

“I don’t mind,” Remus agreed, voice very quiet, “It does seem like a nice way to… wind down.” So long as he ignored his heart rate. 

“It can be our routine. My nightly chats with Remus,” Sirius said, and Remus smiled, closing his eyes. 

“We really should try to get some sleep though, Sirius. I am tired. And I have to finish spell-checking Peter’s essay in the morning.”

“Glakt the Bone-grinder and Woilk the Warmonger?” 

“Peter spelled Woilk: W-H-O-Y-L-C-H.”

Sirius let out a single bark of laughter. In the next bed, James snorted and stirred, and Sirius fell silent again. “Whoops. That’s pretty terrible.”

“I know… Come on, Sirius. Sleep.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled, rolling onto his side, “Sleeping.” But by the time Remus began to lose consciousness, Sirius’s breathing still hadn’t assumed its usual unconscious rhythm.


End file.
